not a black friday

On Friday morning, I joined the throng of Black Friday shoppers and a longtime quest was fulfilled: the dress that I have seen in my mind’s eye since I purchased the gauzy white apron with small floral appliqués on the pockets. There it was as if waiting for me – a single dress put back on the wrong rack, dissimilar to it’s drab compatriots - a vibrant red floral with a full skirt in a deliciously soft and flowing fabric. The style was just what I’d been looking for and, miraculously, the dress was my size.

And when I tried it on? Perfection. This was a dress made for the 1950’s era housewife kink that Ma’am and I share and it was flattering to my figure to boot. The apron, a red cardigan and my red patent heels would bring the outfit together quite nicely. Although I was excited by my find, there was still one thing I needed to know before I could call my quest complete. I bent over in front of the long mirrors, carefully draped the skirt over my lower back and appraised the view from behind with a smile…oh, yes, my Ma’am would definitely like this view. I was absolutely buying this dress. The ridiculously low price was a bonus – I’d have paid many times over the ticketed price to have it.

The excitement of my find was tempered only slightly by the fact that Ma’am wasn’t home when I returned with it. But knowing that she would return soon, I put it on to show her. Her eyes lit up when she saw me in it and I could see that she loved the dress every bit as much as I’d hoped she would…especially when I pulled up the skirt and assumed a display position on our ottoman to show her my Friday panties.

That afternoon, Ma’am and I were able to spend some much needed time together. She gave me the beating that I’ve desperately needed these past couple of weeks. Somehow she knew exactly what I needed from her…from the beating itself to her answer to my plaintive plea for more when I mistakenly thought she was done and the manner in which she expressed her pleasure afterward. It’s been a long time since I’ve truly believed that she takes pleasure in my being a good girl for her. But her eyes can’t lie and it was there for me to read. Even more than the beating itself, that simple truth was what I needed to know right now. It left me more relaxed and clear-headed than I’ve felt in weeks and instilled a sense of hope that I haven’t felt in months.